Parallel Lines
Kings of Convenience
What's the immaterial substance
That envelopes two
That one percieves as hunger
And the other as food
I wake in tangled covers
To a sash of snow
You dream in a cartoon garden
I could never know
Innocent imitation of how it would be
If one the music entered, you did not retreat
In my imagination, you are cast in gold
Your image a compensation for me to hold
Parallel lines, move so fast
Toward the same point
Infinity is as near as it is far